


Bourbon and Sake Samplings

by SugaryFeverDream



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PTSD symptoms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-14 09:25:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10533603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugaryFeverDream/pseuds/SugaryFeverDream
Summary: This here is a small collection of McHanzo fics I've been dabbling lately. I haven't had any solid ideas for a full-blown story for them (despite my love for this ship, holy crap), so I've been making these mini-fics, so to speak, until something comes to mind. My only rule for each "chapter" is that each one needs to be a minimum of 1000 words. Some are more serious in tone, some more comedic. Whatever comes to mind, I jot it down to the best of my abilities.I hope you enjoy what I've made for you here! Have fun, and stay thirsty, friends!





	1. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece in particular I got inspired to write after learning of the canonical PTSD McCree in particular suffers from, due to his involvement in both Deadlock and Blackwatch as a teen/young adult. Sometimes, the dreams get pretty bad; when people you care about suffer from this disorder, the best thing to do is to just give them the love and support they need.

                All he remembers of the nightmare is the crashing bang of an explosion. Who the hell knows which fight the dream was about? McCree can’t recall what differentiated the nightmares that send him shooting strait up in bed, gasping and trembling in a cold sweat. They’ve been happening for years now, haunting him since the days of his youth spent in Deadlock. They had gotten progressively worse the older he became, with the intensity and bloodshed of the fights he had been involved in growing throughout the years. Sometimes there are tears, but most times, it’s simply fearful silence as he tries again and again to remind himself that it was all in the past, that he’s safe, that he’s far away from all the chaos of the battlefield. In many ways, though, battle and bloodshed are always just around the corner for the outlaw Jesse McCree, whether he wants it so or not. This much alone makes it harder for him to calm down from the nightmares, try as he may to do so. The best way to cool down is to take a brief walk around the facility, in an attempt to clear his head and remind himself that he is safe for now, that he is far away from any threat or danger. Just as he stands from the bed to complete this ritual, however, a sound wakes him from his haze. It jolts him back into reality far quicker than a late night stroll through Gibraltar does, if only because it’s so unexpected.

                It’s at this moment that Jesse remembers he’s not alone in the room. The figure in his bed, possibly noticing the absence of his warmth, stirs and sighs as he awakens, prompting Jesse to turn back around. He had forgotten in the midst of his suffering that in present times, somebody shares the room-and his bed-with him now. Months ago, the other agents never would have assumed a pair like the gunslinger and the archer, Hanzo Shimada, to have existed. Nowadays, especially on nights like this one, Jesse isn’t sure what he’d do without him in his life. In the months that they’ve known each other, he has become a drinking partner, a voice of reason to McCree’s sometimes reckless actions, an unlikely friend, and even more unlikely from the outside looking in, a very dear companion in more ways than one. Sighing softly, he crawls back into bed, apologetically doing his best not to wake Hanzo further in the process. Tender a lover as he is, the archer isn’t known for being the affectionate type, and is rather prone to crankiness upon awakening. It’s for this specific reason why he’s rather surprised by the feeling of Hanzo’s arms wrapping around his torso, pulling him in for a gentle, if sleepy embrace as soon as he pulls the covers back over them both. The feeling of lips pressing against the back of his neck catches him slightly off-guard as well, in the most pleasant of ways. Smirking, he whispers an apology as soon as he knows the archer is comfortable once again.

                “Didn’t mean t’ wake ya, sugar,” Jesse’s tone is softer than the night air in the desert, even with the grittiness in his natural speaking voice. He feels Hanzo sigh gently against his shoulder in response. The fact that the archer hasn’t sleepily chastised him for using a pet name on him says everything.

                “You are forgiven this time,” he replies, his own voice borrowing that soft and gentle tone as he kisses his lover’s neck again. “It never gets easier.” Confused at first by his meaning, the gunslinger remembers while still only half-awake that his companion has certainly been through his own night terrors before. While he himself has never been present for them, it’s pretty clear that both men have been through the hardships that come with war and bloodshed. Hanzo’s past demons were a subject that most Overwatch agents have tried to avoid like the plague now that he was more or less fully ingrained into the group; seems Jesse had done his best a little too well.

                “No…I ‘spose it never does.” He lies back a little more flush against the archer, doing his best not to disturb him further. They both still have another couple of hours before anybody has to wake up, and Jesse still wants to get his forty winks in. Hanzo certainly can understand the sentiment, for it’s not long after that exchange that he feels his partner’s breath even out, telling him that he’s most likely fallen back asleep. A soft hum leaves him as he briefly takes up one of Hanzo’s hands, kisses into the palm, and nuzzles back against him. “G’night, darlin’,” he whispers gently, closing his eyes and trying to find slumber once again. Before he can, though, he feels something brushing along his shoulder for a small moment, followed by the whisper of his partner’s voice once again.

                “Oyasumi, Jesse.” It’s around this time that he realizes what the brushing sensation on his shoulder was; a rare smile from the infamous Hanzo Shimada. The gratification and warmth of such a rarity washes over Jesse, despite him being tired as hell, and he shares in that smile as he tries to find the dream realm once again. It’s easier for him this time-perhaps for both of them-because he realizes now that he doesn’t have to face the terror alone. Neither of them have to anymore. When morning finally comes, it feels far too soon for McCree’s liking, and yet the perfect amount at the same time. The alarm sounds, making both of them groggily blink about, and the gunslinger in particular makes a groan of displeasure at its beeping, yet once it’s shut off, the two men greet each other with a sleepy gaze. Now it’s McCree’s turn to dole out affection.

                “Five more minutes?” he asks as he pulls the archer in close.

                “Five more minutes,” Hanzo wholeheartedly agrees, smiling warmly as he nuzzles himself underneath the crook of Jesse’s neck.


	2. Recovering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A recon mission winds up going sour when Talon makes an unexpected ambush. Hanzo makes it back to base, barely alive, and McCree needs to help him in any way possible.
> 
> Chapter warning for blood and near-death experiences.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> I am a hopeless sucker for the "Partner A fretting over Partner B getting seriously injured in the heat of battle" prompt. I may/may not have done it before in rps in the past, if only because hurt/comfort gives me life.
> 
> So anyways, I greatly appreciate the kudos received on the last installment! I never expected my first fic on this site to get such a positive response straight out the gate! Thank you all very, very much! Folks like you are what motivate me to grind these out! <3

                The wound is deep, and the sting of the sharp blade is greater than he anticipated. He’s stumbling trying to get to cover, feeling everything ache and feeling his energy wane despite the adrenaline fighting to keep him on his feet. What started out as a simple recon mission has wound up becoming a fight for life as Talon staged their ambush against him and the other agents involved. It was during the rush to a safe spot that Hanzo had briefly made contact with a Talon agent, but apparently, it was just enough time for the agent to sink a combat knife the size of a meat cleaver underneath the left side of his ribcage. True, Hanzo is probably elaborating when it comes to the size of the blade shoved into his side, but it doesn’t make the pain go away any quicker, if at all. Were he a more ignorant man, he would’ve stabbed the Talon agent with the very same knife, but pulling it out before he could get medical assistance would be a very unwise thing to do. Having to settle for simply breaking off an arrow into the attacker’s throat, Hanzo now has to make it back to the base Overwatch has set up outside the perimeters of the city they had been investigating, and the distance alone makes him doubt whether or not he’s going to make it.

                It’s slow getting back to the base, and the pain is making it difficult for Hanzo to focus. Less than fifteen feet away, he sinks to his knees, trembling and seeing his vision fading…goddammit, did the blade pierce something vital? It’s more than likely, but it’s hindering him worse than he imagined. Red lines his vision now, except it’s not in a way that he figured would happen. He’d recognize that serape anywhere, after all, and the sound of McCree’s revolver firing off at enemies he didn’t know were following him brings him the tiniest amount of comfort as he tries to remain calm. Panting, he’s lifted up gingerly onto his feet, hissing in pain as he feels hands gripping his shoulders.

                “Han?!” he hears Jesse’s voice over the roar of heavy rain and gunfire, though it’s fuzzy compared to everything else. “Jesus, whichever sonuvabitch did this practically bled you dry… _Han_!” His voice is louder now, shaking a bit, panicking perhaps at the lack of color in the archer’s face. “Tell me y’ can hear me!” Hanzo winces softly, cursing and clutching the gunslinger’s arm.

                “Need…medic…” he manages to utter out. His partner is more than compliant, even remembering how much Hanzo would protest to being picked up, choosing instead to lead him back over to the base with each other’s arms over their shoulders. He’s rushed over to the medical station, laid out carefully and delicately so as not to injure him further. Jesse’s voice is heard pleading with Mercy to help him, and fast. It’s the last thing he remembers seeing before everything turns black. The last thing he hears is Jesse reassuring him over and over again that he’s going to be okay. Is he reassuring Hanzo, or himself, though? That’s the ultimate question altogether. His consciousness fades out to the sensation of what seems to be an IV being inserted in one of his arms, along with all sorts of poking and prodding, and what at some point feels like that wretched knife in his side being extracted, at last. The one sensation he distinctly recalls above all of these, though, is the faintest, gentlest touch of a hand brushing his hair out of his face, stroking his forehead as something metal holds onto his hand.

                The amount of time between being led back to their base and waking up in a hospital bed is as of yet unknown to the archer. He stirs a bit, feeling an IV still in his arm as he blinks slowly, attempting to make sense of where he is, and how he got there. The IV seems to be some sort of pain-killer, because he doesn’t feel any pain in his side anymore. Or, at least, he doesn’t feel it for the moment. Looking about the place, he takes note of the figure in the chair not too off to his right. He smirks, shaking his head at Jesse, asleep where he sits, perhaps after waiting for Hanzo himself to wake up. Putting a hand upon the gunslinger’s leg wakes him up with a confused-sounding snore, which would’ve made Hanzo laugh if he wasn’t more composed.

                “Oh…mornin’, sunshine,” he yawns, stretching out before coming up to the bed, kneeling down to meet with the archer eye-to-eye.

                “How long have you been waiting for me to wake up?” Hanzo asks, moving carefully to meet with him. When Jesse shrugs, he can’t help but chuckle.

                “Beats the hell outta me, hun. Two days, maybe?” He should chide him for the pet name, but right now, all he cares about is how dedicated he was, to come in here and wait around for Hanzo like this.

                “You sentimental fool,” he muses softly as a hand reaches out to gently stroke his hair. The gunslinger offers a look similar to a puppy that’s been denied table scraps.

                “Awww, c’mon now,” he sighs, wiping at his eyes with his arm. “I beg an’ plea for Ang to lemme in, worryin’ over you for what, two days now, an’ I get insulted for my troubles?”

                “You’re still a fool,” he chuckles, thanking Angela on the inside for the pain killers, because otherwise he’d immediately regret laughing in any sort of way. “…though perhaps I’m the greatest fool for making you fret over me so.” Jesse seems to perk up a bit more, sitting on the bed and carefully moving a bit of Hanzo’s hair out of his face.

                “How come you’re only sweet on me when one of us is hurtin’?” he asks, his tone gentle despite the little jibe at his partner. It’s around this point that he puts his hand over Hanzo’s, giving it the gentlest squeeze as he leans in to plant a kiss upon his lips. Hanzo’s free hand runs its fingers through McCree’s hair as they kiss, bringing him just a touch closer. When they part, he speaks to him again, his voice a comforting, if gritty-voiced whisper. “You ain’t allowed to make me fret this badly over you again, y’hear?” With a soft grin, Hanzo pulls him in for one more kiss, this one a little longer than the last.

                “Understood.”


End file.
